


The Treasure of Mythal

by LadyHawke361



Series: Daughter of Antiquity [1]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/M, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Not Trespasser DLC Compliant, non-canon
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-18
Updated: 2016-10-13
Packaged: 2018-08-09 15:43:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 9
Words: 9,268
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7807684
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyHawke361/pseuds/LadyHawke361
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A Dalish clan goes to an ancient ruin to find that which they have been charged to protect.</p>
<p>This story is on hiatus. I am currently working on a new Series:</p>
<p>On Silvered Wings</p>
<p>Sorry for the inconvenience. I will return to this once the other series starts to wrap up.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> The full series will be full of my own head canon, and it will not cover the Trespasser DLC.
> 
> I hope you will enjoy!

A small group from a Dalish clan came to a stop around an ancient ruin that looked to be Elvhen.  There was an ivy covered arch over a set of crumbling stairs that lead deep into the hillside. The Keeper had brought her First and a handful of trusted hunters who knew the meaning of discretion. The hunters set up camp while the Keeper and the First lit torches to head into the ruins.  They had come to collect their charge.

As they walked down the stairs the Keeper reflected on all she had recently learned from the notes her great-grandfather had kept. _Those who we descended from had been given a great and grave duty._

 _We must protect Mythal’s Treasure._ She thought. _The whole clan knows that, yet only I and my First know what that Treasure is!_ She wondered, _How do I explain the new member to the clan?_

They had just come to a new hall that intersected the main path they were on. They could go three ways from this point. That is when they saw torchlight in the distance, as long as they continued straight ahead.

With caution they headed towards the light.  As they neared they beheld an ancient elf in ceremonial armor, he was standing guard in front of a pale wooden door that gleamed in the torchlight.

“ _H_ _old, come no further, and identify yourself!”_ he commanded in Elvish.

The Keeper answered in Elvish as well, “Accept _peace and rest. I am Keeper Deshanna of Clan Lavellan. We are here to gather the Treasure of Mythal at the appointed hour.”_

The ancient Elvhen nodded, for she had answered correctly and honestly. “This _way,”_ he said. The Keeper could see relief on his face as he opened the pale door that lead into an immaculately preserved room with an open sarcophagus, surrounded by beds of pure white flowers, of a type she did not recognize.

The three walked further into the richly appointed room and looked into the sarcophagus, within lay a beautiful young Dalish woman. She looked no older than 16 or 17 winters old, yet the Keeper knew she was far older. Her hair was a lustrous Raven wing black that looked bluer where the light hit it just right, and it framed her form all the way to her knees, she bore the Vallaslin of Mythal, the most complex design dedicated to Mythal the Keeper had ever seen. It shimmered in the torchlight, as if crystalline emeralds had been gently laid into her skin.

“ _Sh_ _e is so beautiful,”_ Keeper Deshanna breathed in awe _._

Nodding the ancient one answered, _“She is the Treasure of Mythal.  Guard her well Keeper of Clan Lavellan!”_ With that he turned and walked away, knowing he could now rest, his duty done. Quietly under his breath he whispered, “May _Fen’Harel keep and guide you young one, for your Mother's sake.”_

 

:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:

 

Sometime later, the Keeper’s hunting party returned to the clan's main camp, much to the joy of all who had been left to wait.  Keeper Deshanna stepped from the aravel, and held up her hands for silence. The clan quieted, waiting, expectant.

“May I introduce you all to our clan's newest member? This is Lindariel.” As she said her name the beautiful young woman stepped down out of the back of the aravel, smiling shyly at her new clan.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Edited to clean up formatting. Minor spelling issues.


	2. Visions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Seeing death and demons, Lindariel sits down with her Keeper, and plans form.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here is the story as it should have been.

Keeper Deshanna walked through their camp, checking on her charges. As she walked the path leading to Lindariel's aravel she saw the young, looking, woman drop to her knees as though a great weight pushed her down.  By the time the Keeper got to her, she was trembling like a leaf in the wind.

“Da’len, are you alright?” Deshanna pulled Lindariel into her arms, stroking her blue-black hair with gentle hands. “Can you tell me what you have seen, Da'len?”

Lindariel draws herself inward, yet she clings to the Keeper for comfort. She knows not what she can say here. She does not want to frighten her clan.  It has been several years since she was brought into the clan and they had seen many strange things at her hands. “I am sorry Keeper Deshanna, I don’t think it is wise to discuss it here, where anyone can overhear.”

“I.. I understand Da’len.  Let us go to my aravel.” She says as she stands helping Lindariel to her feet. With an arm around the Seers waist, she walks Lindariel through the slowly waking camp.

As soon as they are inside her aravel Keeper Deshanna helps Lindariel to sit, and she starts chatting at Lindariel, “You know, when we picked you up and brought you to the clan, I had no idea we would be adding a mage, a seer, and a dreamer to our ranks. I am heartened to see the time among us had taught you discretion.”

Lindariel looks up as her Keeper pauses deep in thought. Lindariel remains silent just watching and waiting.

“You are indeed a treasure Da’len, and I fear what this vision portends.” Deshanna's worried eyes look deeply into Lindariel's eyes. “What can you tell me?”

With a small shudder Lindariel speaks, “I had several visions in quick succession. The first showed me many Shemlen. Half warriors, which I assumed were Templars, and many mages, most likely those that became rebels seeking to get out from under the Templar's thumbs. They walked in two lines heading for a Temple. Whispers on the wind said, “To the Temple of Sacred Ashes they go.” I felt no fear, nor hatred from the voice and I do believe the voice spoke the truth.” Lindariel pauses, as if gathering her scattered thoughts. Her eyes focused on a point only she could see.

Deshanna waited patiently for her to speak again, yet she did not. When tears finally started to fall down Lindariel's face Deshanna spoke, “What happened next Da’len?”

As if in a deep trance Lindariel replied, “Even though they were so many still trying to make their way into the Temple, hundreds it seems had already made it inside. Suddenly there was a huge explosion that rocked the very foundations of the Temple. Fire and stone filled the sky and rained down on those who had been trying to make their way into the Temple.” Here she paused yet again, not sure if she should describe the hole in the sky itself.

“Da’len is there something you cannot say?” worry clouding Deshanna’s eyes.

“I do not know if any could, or would, believe what I saw after the explosion.” Lindariel finally meets Deshanna's eyes, her own eyes questioning.

Steeling herself Deshanna nods, “Tell me, I cannot help if I don’t have a full picture.”

Nodding cautiously Lindariel continues, “Once the vision cleared some, I saw a huge hole in the sky itself over what remained of the Temple Of Sacred Ashes. It glowed a disconcerting shade of green, it pulsed like it had a beating heart and it sucked up chunks of earth and stone. Also there was one survivor. A Dalish mage.” Lindariel wrapped her arms around her knees as she began to violently shake.

“Did you recognize this Mage?”

“Yes I did, for it was me.” She locked eyes with her Keeper. “You **_must_ ** send me Keeper Deshanna, no other will be able to do what I can.” In a small voice she admits, “Though I do not wish to go.”

Silence reigns in the aravel as both women are lost in their own thoughts. Finally the Keeper looks at her charge and says, “I am loathe to send you into danger, Da'len, however it maybe safer for you there than here, given the distrust you are viewed with by some of the clan members.”

Lindariel cannot help but snort out a short laugh, “Such as Felahdris, and his crew, that cocky hunter who thinks he knows better that you?” her voice dry and humorless.

“Indeed, I am glad to see you are already picking out those who could be a danger to you. You are willing to go then?”

“Yes, it is the only way to try to defeat that which is to come.”

“Then go and make your preparations and I will make the announcement.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lindariel had other visions as well showing her the many choices that will be placed in her path. She tries not let her visions dictate every little move.
> 
> (Minor chapter clean up. Removing unneeded words and cleaning some punctuation.)
> 
> Edited to clean up formatting issues.


	3. Memories

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Not everything is light and happy for our hero. Something Solas gets made aware of all too soon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Extreme conditions are hinted at and non-con as well. Be advised. I changed the rating due to the contents of this story.
> 
> Also there is a Solas POV that comes between Visions and Memories in a separate thread called: 
> 
> Moments in Time
> 
> Please enjoy.

The Elven servant just left after sharing needed information. It seems she had fallen unconscious after closing, what Solas seemed to call a key rift. She could remember the road, or frozen river, she and the Seeker had followed to get to the first rift she had ever seen in the waking world. In some ways she still felt Solas’ hand on her left forearm as he directed her, and the feel of the mark as if picked up the magical threads around the rift, allowing her to seal it.

Shaking her head to clear it of the recent memories, she focused on getting dressed. The servant girl had mentioned that Seeker Pentaghast had wanted to see her, and that she was at the Chantry with Chancellor Roderick, she shudders as she thinks, _That man gives me a headache, but I cannot fault his views,_ with self deprecation her thoughts continue, _after all what am I but a stinking knife-eared Dalish animal. How often had she heard the Shemlen add animal to the slander of knife-ear,_ she wondered to herself.

Having finished dressing she pinches the bridge of her nose to stop her thoughts going too far back, back to that time she had nearly died at the hands of Shemlen. Giving the room she was in another cursory glance she headed to the door. Cracking it open she looked out and froze, the incident that happened five years ago came forward in her mind with a vengeance, and terror engulfed her. Shutting the door she put her back to it as she slid down to sit on the floor, she pulled her knees to her chest and buried her face against them while wrapping her arms around her legs and curling her hands over her head. Her body began shaking and her spirit recoiled from the memories replaying in her mind's eye.

 

:-:-:-:-:-:

 

Something tickled a corner of Solas’ mind. A dread, a terror so deep and all encompassing he had to find out what it was.  He was led to the Herald’s temporary quarters. He tried the door only to find it blocked. Going around the side he glanced in a window and saw her huddled into a ball of pain and fear.  With a fade step he was next to her, he could feel her trapped in a memory.

 

:-:-:-:-:-:

 

She could see herself fall as her young charge died. She could feel the wrongness of the blood magic that trapped her in her own body. She wanted to flee this memory, yet she knew she could not. The violence perpetrated against her flared, the hours that felt like days, the days that felt like weeks, weeks that felt like months, months that felt like years… The human males and city Elven males each doing what they wanted to her body, the female humans and elves blaming her for their mates, sons and fathers misdeeds. All of it too much to process for the hundredth time.  Only one child had spoken out, one Elven girl child. She had wanted her elders to stop and free the pretty Dalish Elf. Instead the Human Noble who ruled the small Ferelden village, which was on the Waking Sea, killed the child for daring to speak against his actions.  That is how she learned he was plotting to overthrow King Alistair.

That was also the moment she lost control of her magic, or at least that is what she had thought, in reality she did not register the child's death until a week later.  By then the Noble and his pet blood mage were long gone for a meeting with an agent of the Venatori.  That she would not learn until _much_ later.

She remembered the purple flames of her wayward magic consuming everything and everyone in the village inappropriately named “Sorrows End”, for it had been the beginning of sorrow for her.  When she had regained control of her magic, not a stone stood on a stone, the wood used in builds was not but crumbling ashes, as were the bodies of both the Shemlen and the City Elves who had resided in this place. Men, women and children turned to ash because of some Noble’s greed for power and position.

 

:-:-:-:-:-:

 

Solas felt the magical build up around the young woman, he could see the purple flames just rimming her body, though they were not burning anything yet. “Oh, Da’len, you must snap out of this before you lose complete control.” Then he hears a groggy statement from the girl.

“Do not call me Da’len, you have not earned the right.” She lifts her head to look at him, her green eyes also rimmed in purple fire.

 

:-:-:-:-:-:

 

Lindariel looked at Solas kneeling next to her and continued, “However you may call me by my name, it is Lindariel.”  She carefully takes stock of herself, closing her eyes she starts her breathing exercises which in turn allows her to let go of her terror and restores her calm and control. When she opens her eyes the purple fire is gone.

Looking at Solas, worry clouding her eyes; she asks, “You know what I am?”

His eyes are serious as they search her face, “You are what the ancients called Alhasha Eol. There has not been someone like you for hundreds if not thousands of years.” His voice was barely loud enough for her to hear.

Lindariel nods, “That is correct, many in my clan call me throwback, and they do not like me.” Her smile, self deprecating. “When my magic woke… the way it did, they wanted to kill me. The Keeper would not allow it. She said that was a last resort _IF_ I could not learn control.”

“Yet you learned control.” He stated it. He did not ask.

“Yes, and it is only under extreme circumstances or stress that I lose control.”

“You very nearly lost control a moment ago. What happened?”

A small shudder passes through her body, “I just was not expecting so many,” she caught herself before the word Shemlen came out, “humans to be standing about just seeming to wait for me. That triggered a _very_ bad memory. That is all.”

With a sigh Lindariel stands, “I suppose I should screw up my courage and find Seeker Pentaghast, before she sends someone to get me.”

Solas nods, “If you should wish to speak of what happened…” his voice trailed away for a moment, “You know where to find me.”

Lindariel nods as she turns and steps out the door. She silently prays, _Mother, guide me so I do not lose control among those I now have a responsibility towards._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alhasha = wild  
> Eol = talent
> 
> This is something that seems to only effect Elvhen who come into their gift due to extreme conditions. In Lindariel's case her adoptive parents were murdered in front of her and those responsible were threatening to kill her also. She was five years old. 
> 
> The Wild Talent is purely my head canon, and only Elvhen mages can become one under the right circumstances. That means it's impossible for modern Elves to manifest as one. However I think Solas does not truly realize that fact just yet.
> 
> Edited to clean up formatting.
> 
> Minor clean up of wrong words and spelling issues.


	4. Choices

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Lindariel gives some insight into hersrlf while making the Seeker uncomfortable.

They had just set up camp, in the Hinterlands, for the night when Lindariel felt the dizziness and pull that signalled one thing.  She was about to have a vision. Sure enough, as she stood next to the fire looking up at the moon, her body shuddered and her legs stopped supporting her as her eyes rolled back in her head.

_She steps into a Chantry building. In the center is a rift and there is a human mage fighting the demons. Though he speaks to her she can’t quite make out what he is saying, but his gesture makes his meaning apparent. It is time to close the rift. Some areas around the rift seem to speed things up or slow things down.  She can feel how wrong this rift is and it confuses her. Her guides whisper about time magic and the great danger of leaving a Tevinter Magister alone to do as his Master wishes. If you chose this course you will face Red Templars._

_The scene goes black and she finds herself in a fortress, before her are three flags, one representing the people, the Chantry, and the Templars. A voice whispers, “Show me, rank them.”  There are three controls. The scene changes again, she sees what is left of the Templar Order behind her, she sinces it is the same fortress, and up ahead is the demon she and her companions must face. Beside her is a strange boy whispering advice and the innermost thoughts of those around her. Again she hears the whispering voices. If you chose this course the ones serving the creator of the Breach will hunt you, the Venatori. You must chose, the Mages or the Templars.  You are the only one who can decide._

Reality slowly encroaches on the peace of oblivion that her visions sometimes give her. She can hear her companions talking worriedly about her sudden collapse. With a sigh she opens her eyes and apologizes for the worry she caused.

Solas asks, “What exactly happened to you? You were looking up at the sky, you moaned and whispered, 'Not now.’ Then just collapsed. You very nearly fell into the fire, if Varric had not caught you, you would have been badly burned.” She watched Solas’ frown grow the longer he spoke.

When Solas fell silent, Lindariel turned to Varric, “Thank you for catching me.” Then turning she met each of their eyes in turn. “How much do you know about me and my place in clan Lavellan?”

Cassandra spoke up, “Well I know you were called 'the First’ and that your parents don’t appear to be apart of your clan.”

“As far as it goes, that is correct. I am the First of clan Lavellan, and my parents are dead. I was adopted into clan Lavellan because they needed another Mage who could take over as Keeper if something happened to Keeper Deshanna. However I am more than merely a Mage. When I sleep I walk the fade the way we walk the waking world.”

Solas interrupts shock evident on his face, “You're a Dreamer?”

Lindariel sighs and nods, “Yes, and there is more. I am also touched in another way, a way I particularly dislike. I receive visions, from who or what I do not know. Several weeks before the Conclave I had a vision that made Keeper Deshanna decide to send me to spy on the Conclave.”

Cassandra suddenly snorts in derision, “Are you trying to tell us you just had a vision?” Her disdain evident in her question. 'I highly doubt the Maker would give such visions to you!”

Lindariel covers her mouth to hide her smile and works to keep the laughter out of her voice, “You would no doubt be correct in that thought Seeker. For I too do not believe the Maker sent me any of the visions I have seen since I was a little girl.”

Varric chimed in, “So what exactly did you see Lady Light?”

Lindariel's face becomes pensive as she casts her mind's eye back on what she had been shown, “It is hard to say, I guess you could say I was shown my choices and given a taste of what might be.”

“And what choice is that?” Cassandra asks, her voice full of suspicion.

“A choice we have been contemplating. Do I choose to ally with the Mages or the Templars.” Lindariel sighs, drawing her legs to her chest and resting her head on her knees as she stares into the fire. No amount of questioning gets her to open up again as she contemplates what comes next.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Edited for formatting issues.


	5. Thoughts and the Fade

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lindariel thinks too hard before falling asleep and slipping into the Fade.

Lindariel sits at the desk in her hut, reading a letter from Keeper Deshanna. Her mind going over everything that had happened. She was grateful to the Ambassador for easing Keeper Deshanna’s fears, the last thing she wanted was for the clan to worry. As she writes to Deshanna she reviews:

_Trying to get Cassandra to understand that just because I 'see’ things does not mean I have all the answers. It is difficult to say the least. However both Solas and Varric seem to understand._

_Val Royeaux was a pain and a half. I will never be fully comfortable dealing with the Chantry. It does not help that it is a_ **_Human_ ** _organization that basically sees Elves as non-entities, that lack souls, that are thus undeserving of basic compassion. They may not have called me knife-ear or animal, but I could almost hear them thinking it._

_I am glad I met Sera, she should be fun, and Vivienne or Madame De Fer seems to be a capable Mage and hopefully a steadfast ally. I just don’t think she's going to like me very well based on some of her comments._

A sigh escapes her lips as she puts her quill down, she gently folders the letter, slipping it in between two books laying on her desk. Her thoughts turn dark:

 _The Inquisition leaders want too much, yet are incapable of deciding who they want to approach, Mages or Templars? If I have my way it will be the Mages. I really don’t trust the Templars, after all_ **_I am a Mage_ ** _. If we were to seek out the Templars would they not at some point try to put myself or Solas into a Circle? I would sooner die than be forced into a Circle or allow them to make me Tranquil._

_I think I shall approach The Iron Bull out on the Storm Coast, then head back to the Hinterlands and see if I can find the Grey Warden named Blackwall. Then I should find Master Dennet to get better horses for the Inquisition, then perhaps seek out Grand Enchanter Fiona and see if we can come to an equitable arrangement.  I really wish I was back with my clan._

Slow tears slide down her face as she folds her arms onto the desk and buries her face in them. After just a short time her tears stop and her breathing evens out in sleep.

 

:-:-:-:-:-:

 

The scene she opens her eyes to is a long ago memory. The room she is in, is finely furnished. Instead of a bed however, there is a sarcophagus surrounded by her favorite flowers, pure white Lilies. Their scent filling the air. Behind the sarcophagus is a mural, Mythal's tree inlaid with emeralds in a white and silver marble. Behind her is a statue of Fen'harel, the statue's eyes are focused on Mythal's tree or perhaps on the sarcophagus; as if he might be curious as to who rests there.

“Hello Da'len, what is this place?” a quiet voice asks. Slowly she turns to look at the speaker, realizing it is Solas.

“I am not really sure,” she murmurs as she too looks around. “I feel like this room matches Keeper Deshanna’s description of where the Treasure of Mythal was once kept years ago.”

Solas stiffens at “the Treasure of Mythal”, and he begins to wonder, “You know of the Treasure of Mythal?” he asks, Lindariel can hear the shock in his voice.

She nods, “Long before the clans, as we know them now, the Elvhen whom clan Lavellan descended from, served Mythal. She gave them a duty to guard her greatest treasure. To this very day our clan continues to guard it.”

“I have only heard whispers in the fade mentioning the Treasure. Do you know what it is?”

“I’m sorry, I’m not that important within the clan to be privy to that information. I just serve in whatever way the Keeper feels necessary.” Walking further in she looks into the sarcophagus, and sighs. “I guess even the fade won’t satisfy our curiosity. The sarcophagus is empty.”

Solas walks over and peers in.  “You are correct it would seem. How did you form this place if you have never been here before Da’len?”

“I’m not sure, this place, Mythal's tree, the statue of Fen’harel. I feel like I should know this place, like I’ve been here many times, yet I can not remember.” her voice breaks on remember, and slow tears roll down her pale face.

Solas gently pulls her into his embrace as he comforts her, “Do not fear Da’len. We will find the answers together.” He holds her in silence until her tears run their course, then he cups her face in his hands, forcing her to look at him. “Things will work out as long as you don’t give up Da’len. Remember I will remain with you until the Breach is sealed. Now wake up.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for the kudos and comments! Please keep sharing your thoughts!


	6. Confusion and Companions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lindariel wakes confused by the comfort Solas offered her. She asks Solas, Varric and Cassandra to meet her for dinner. Wanting to get to know them better in a relatively peaceful environment, before the head out to recruit new members.
> 
> The void in her memories haunts her, yet she can not grasp why.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone, I'm sorry it's been a while since my last update. I deal with varying degrees of depression, and that can make writing a difficult. Also I apologize for any wrong words, I am using an Android tablet to write and touch screens are a proverbial pain in the neck.
> 
> I hope you all enjoy this addition to Lindariel's tale.

Lindariel woke with a start, her face and desk wet with her tears. She cast her mind's eye back over the room she had found herself in, and she wondered how she had created it; having never been there before. Sitting up, she realized she had slept hunched over her desk and still in the clothes from the day before. Quickly she striped and wiped herself down with warmed water, then dressing she headed for the door trying to calm her rapidly reeling mind. _Why would Solas of all people be willing to comfort me, he doesn't even like the Dalish!_ _Creators know I haven’t been forthcoming in what I tell people, just enough truth to make them look to other things._

Thinking over all her interactions with the man made her realize, that though he found the Dalish in general to be less than shining, that perhaps she had done something to make him look at her differently.  _ I wonder if it was my ability to see both the Dalish and the City Elves as one people. Frankly we  _ **_are_ ** _ one people, it is now only an accident of birth that makes one Dalish or City Elven. _

Lindariel sighs as she heads toward Varric's fire,  _ I guess I need to let Varric and Solas know I am planning to head out early tomorrow. I wonder if I can convince them and Cassandra to meet me at the Tavern for dinner. I’d like to get to know the three of them better. _

“Storyteller, we will be heading out at the crack of dawn to make a swing through the Storm Coast to see the Bull’s Chargers in action. Then back to the Hinterlands to wrap up some stuff there. Can you be ready?” Lindariel asks with a raised eyebrow and her lips just curving up into a small smile.

“Sure, Lady Light, anything for our Seer extraordinaire.” He gives a mock bow, laughter in his voice.

Lindariel can’t keep the laughter out of her voice even as she rolls her eyes at Varric, “I was also wondering if you would be willing to meet with me for dinner this evening? I would like to get to know you, and the others a little better.”

“Sure, sure, shall we also have a game of Wicked Grace?”

“As long as you're willing to teach me, I didn’t have time to learn card games with all my efforts to learn my people’s shattered history and control over my magic.”

“Be glad to, Lady Light. See you this evening.”

Lindariel nods, waving as she headed toward Solas’ lodge. She carefully schooled her face, for some reason she could feel her tears burning at the back of her eyes again.  Solas turned toward her as she crested the rise. “Solas,” she greeted, lifting her hand. “I wanted to thank you for your kindness in the Fade,” her voice trailed away as her eyes lifted to view the Breach.

“There was no need to thank me. Frankly I feel you keep too much of your pain to yourself, you still have not come to talk about what happened after you woke from stabilizing the Breach,” his voice trailed off in such a way as to make the statement more of a question.

“I know,” she pauses for a moment, “that is, was a situation that is very difficult to talk about and frankly I’m not sure many would be able to stomach hearing about it.” She sighs. “Though I did have a purpose for seeking you out. We will be heading out to the Storm Coast and then back to the Hinterlands, we leave early tomorrow.”

“Very well, I shall be ready, Lindariel.” He says with a slight bow of his head towards her.

“Thank you,” there is a slight pause. “I know you prefer to take your meals in your quarters, but would you be willing to forgo that and take dinner in the tavern with me? I’ve invited Varric and also plan to ask Cassandra,” before he can answer she adds,”I’d like a chance to get to know each of you a bit better before we go and possibly bring in new talents to our little group.”

“Very well, I’ll see you later this evening.” And he begins to wonder yet again, about this young Dalish Mage who bears the mark.

The smile Lindariel gives him brightens her whole face, warming her eyes, which dance with happiness, “Thank you, Solas,” she breaths out as she turns heading off to the gate and the practice yards beyond.

She pauses at the gate to see the Seeker striking a practice dummy. Cassandra’s movements are precise and elegant. Lindariel admires the faith and certainty that seems to seep from the woman. Walking with as much courage as she can muster, for Cassandra scares her, she approaches the Seeker.

Cassandra notices the Herald's approach and sets aside her practice sword. “What can I do for you, Herald?”

“Hmmmm, perhaps call me by my name? It is Lindariel after all.”

“I… I am sorry, I fall into using titles so easily, I suppose it is apart of my training in the Order. Can I help you, Lindariel?” The Seeker only gave a short pause before saying her name as if testing it out in her head first.

Lindariel smiles at the Seeker, “I know we kind of got off to a shaky start, but I’d really like it if you would meet with me at the tavern for dinner tonight. I have invited Solas and Varric as well. I feel a need to get to know you all a little better before heading out tomorrow morning for the Storm Coast and the Hinterlands.”

“I do not see the harm, of course I will meet you this evening.”

“Oh good, after we eat Varric is going to teach me Wicked Grace. You're also welcome to join us in a game.” With that Lindariel waves and heads out away from Haven, towards Druffalo Hill.  _ I really need to get my head together privately or I’m going to be a mess, _ she thinks. Her mind still trying to fill the void in her own memories. 


	7. Druffelo Hill

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A moment alone for the Herald. Interrupted by first Solas, then another Dalish who has wandered close to Haven. Insights or just more questions.

Lindariel sat down on an outcropping of rock she had swept clear of snow and placed a low level heating glyph on, crossing her legs, she rested her hands on her knees and began slowing her thoughts, pushing down and away any that threatened her inner harmony. _How often have I had to complete this mental exercise in the past few weeks, or am I on months?_ She shakes her head, settling back into her thoughts. _Too often since the Conclave, and why does it feel as though other memories are missing, not just the ones centered around what happened at the Conclave? My currently available memories seem to go from one to the next well enough, yet something or someone is missing from my memories._

 

:-:-:-:-:-:

 

Solas growls under his breath as he tries to analyze why he chose to follow the Herald. _I say her name to her face but refuse to call her that in my head. Why? And why do I feel as if something is very off about her today?_

Solas settles himself in a small Grove of trees not too far from Druffalo Hill, and he watches. Lindariel had settled cross-legged on a small outcropping and for some reason it bothered him to see the frown that furrowed her brow. There was something very familiar about her, like a half remembered dream. Which of course was so very frustrating as he never forgot his dreams. Usually. _Perhaps I should just go up to her and ask her point blank about that memory or whatever it is that so bothers her. Varric is correct when he calls her Lady Light and I hate seeing her brow darken this way!_

Having made his decision Solas gets up and starts towards the Herald.

 

:-:-:-:-:-:

 

_Sometimes I think death would be easier, HA, of course it is easier._ She thinks. _Yet if you give in to the desire for the easy path, that would leave the world vulnerable to the one who created the Breach in the first place. Can’t have that can we? Mother would never forgive me._ Lindariel feels rocked to her very core, _Mother, why can’t I remember her face or her name?! Is this what has been stolen? The memories of my Mother? Who was she?_ Panic begins to build, and her control begins to falter.

_Calm, I must remain calm. Deep breaths, Lindariel. Losing control would be very bad. You have known you were missing more than the memories of the Conclave. Panic will do you no good._

Lindariel jumps, whirling to face the direction of a loudly snapping twig. Her eyes searching for danger, her hand gripping her staff tightly. Her eyes run back and forth over the area around her until she spots him and relaxes. Solas. His mere presence comforts her and she relaxes back down on the outcropping. “Solas, you scared me. What are you doing here? Or has our Spymaster asked you to find me?”

“No, I was not sent. I came because I was worried about you. What is bothering you so lethallan?” he asks, worry evident in his voice and his eyes.

Lindariel casts her eyes to the ground as she considers what to say, hoping for inspiration. Finding none she finally looks up and meets his eyes, the naked fear in her eyes takes him aback. “I guess, I am afraid,” her voice hardly above a whisper. “So much is expected of me, yet I know I am not whole. That I am missing more than just the events at the Conclave, and I know not what I can do about it. It is like that room I molded in the Fade, yet I know not where that image came from.”

Just as Solas is about to respond another voice intrudes, “Well lethallan,” the Elvish word a sneer, “I have found you, the Keeper will be most displeased when she learns the truth of your involvement with the Shem **_and_ ** a flat-ear.”

Lindariel schools her face into neutrality, her eyes devoid of emotion she stands to face this new interruption, “Hello Felahdris, how _wonderful_ to see you again,” her voice dripping with sarcasm. His eyes grow heated with anger yet he remains visually relaxed. Lindariel begins to smile, a smile that fails to touch her eyes, “Where is your little hunting group? Usually you have at least two other hunters with you. Did the Keeper make them stay behind?” she asks as if truly concerned.

A growl is ripped from Felahdris’ throat, his face becoming a mask of pure hatred. “You never deserved the Keeper’s trust!”

Solas seeing how this is going suddenly steps between the two clansmen. “I do not know your purpose here, but I will not allow you to act however you deem appropriate! She is far more needed than you are!” Solas’ glare sends Felahdris back several feet.

Felahdris glances between the two before giving a parting shot, “You won’t always have someone guarding your back, Harellan.” With that he runs off into the woods outside of Haven, disappearing from sight if not mind.

Solas looked at the youthful Herald and asked, “A friend of yours?”

“Not really, ever since I was taken in by clan Lavellan, he has been one of my detractors there. He _feels_ I’m unfit for my position there and that only one truly born to the clan should ever have the opportunity to become Keeper,” she sighs wishing in her heart of hearts he had never shown his face near Haven. “He is dangerous, and apart of the reason I was sent to spy on the Conclave.” She glances back a Solas making eye contact again. “There were as yet unsubstantiated rumors within the clan that he was looking to have me killed and possibly having it appear an accident. I have not “seen” anything that corroborates these rumors however.”

“It seems we should take steps to safeguard you just encase he tries something, perhaps talking with Sister Leliana?” he offers.

“Oh Creators no! This is an internal clan situation, I only filled _you_ in because you witnessed our conversation. I do **_not_ ** want the Humans involved in this. I was send a message to Keeper Deshanna via a method she taught me, so no one unwelcome will intercept it. Deshanna will deal with him.”

“Very well lethallan, I will leave this to your discretion, however I hope you will forgive me if I chose to keep an eye out for possible trouble from that source.”

She gives a short bark of laughter, “Fen’Harel forbid **_I_ ** should try to stop you. Be my guest. Just please keep it quiet as far as the others go.”

Solas smirks, hardly believing her choice of phrasing, “Indeed, I would not dream of going against your wishes, as you said it is an internal clan issue. Though your safety must remain my top priority.”

Lindariel's face sours a bit, “Yes the all important mark, without which the world as we know it cannot be saved.” her voice full of sarcasm as she lifts her left hand to examine said mark.

Solas looks confused for a brief moment, “Lindariel, that is not what I meant. Yes the mark is important, however, it is _you_ that takes priority. You are unique, even without the mark. Why do you assume things the way you do?”

“Solas, with all that I have survived, if you can call it that, it is easier to believe the way I do than to think of myself as special. Perhaps at one time I might have believed, but I don’t feel strong enough to believe I am special. In fact Varric constantly calling me Lady Light makes me exceedingly uncomfortable.”

“Then share with me lethallan so that I may understand, and perhaps help you see yourself the way many in the Inquisition see you.”

Smiling sadly she replies, “I'm not yet ready to speak on my past, partly because I feel there are missing pieces to my past yet for me to find. Please let it go for now.” She pauses thinking, and Solas remains quiet letting her figure things out a bit. A few minutes later she says, “I may not see myself the way you do, but it comforts me that someone I’ve come to trust, sees me in such a light. Thank you ma’falon.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Any suggestions or things you'd like to learn in the next chapter? What kind of conversations between Cassandra, Varric, Solas and Lindariel would you like to see and should be advisors be invited also?
> 
> Dinner and Cards
> 
> Let me know please, though I may not have Lindariel answer all questions this early on.


	8. Dinner and Cards

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A fight with Madame de Fer. Stories, food and cards. More hints about a troubled youth.

Lindariel and Solas were on their way to the tavern when Commander Cullen, Ambassador Montilyet, Sister Leliana, and Madame de Fer came toward them. Madame de Fer spoke first, “Hello, my dear,” her overly sweet Orlaisian drawl was like the cries of stuck nugs in Lindariel's ears. “We,” she gestured to the advisors, “heard about your planned party in the tavern and were wondering why we weren't invited, my dear.”

“Oh well, Cullen, Josephine and Leliana are invited. It is you who are not invited Madame de Fer.” Lindariel did not elaborate any further as her eyes bore into Vivienne’s own eyes.

For a moment rage seemed to fill Vivienne's entire body, yet somehow she kept control. Somehow her voice dripped with even more sugary goodness, “Why am I not invited, my dear?” Her “dear” now sounded more like a slander rather than a pet name.

“I don’t like your politics, everyone else here are folks trying to do what is right for everyone in Thadus. You,” Lindariel points at Vivienne, “Are out only to serve yourself and your ambitions, I also know if you could get rid of me and still be able to close the rifts without me, you would. The only reason I agreed to let you join is for your connections. You will not speak to me unless I speak to you first and you will help the Ambassador in any way she sees fit. Have I made myself clear Madame de Fer?” Lindariel's voice was cold as ice from beginning to end of her little speech.

“You are very clear Herald of Andraste.” Vivienne's voice is also cold, yet her rage burns in her eyes. She turns sharply on her heel and stalks back to the Chantry.

Leliana watches her go, “That may not have been wise Herald,” she says quietly before turning her gaze on Lindariel.

Lindariel gives a snort that would have done Cassandra proud before she replies, “I detested that woman the moment I met her. She is selfish and snide and thinks every Mage should fear their own gifts for magic. It is when a mage fears their gift that they open themselves to possession. Not when they take hold of said gift and truly master it. If she doesn’t like me all to the better for I loathe her.” Lindariel thought, _ I will not walk on eggshells to make someone I detest like me! _

Leliana gives Lindariel a short bow, her lips curving up into a full blown smile that most had never witnessed, “Oh I think you and I will get along just fine,” she says with genuine laughter in her voice.

Solas studies Lindariel with a smirk of his own, “Can I take it as a given you will not be inviting her on many missions?” hope of that outcome strong in his voice as his eyes dance with mirth.

“You have that correct Solas. I’d rather kiss a poison adder than have her at my back at a critical moment.” Lindariel truly left no doubt in anyone's minds how she felt about the Orlaisian Mage.

The group now consisting of the Advisors, Solas and Lindariel, continued on its way to the Singing Maiden Tavern, where they joined Varric and Cassandra. Lindariel noted Sera sitting by herself watching the passers by, catching the rogues eye, she motioned for her to join them. “Whut's goin’ on?” Sera asks as she reaches the table.

“Oh just a little dinner and some Wicked Grace, if you’d like to join us.” Lindariel replies.

“Sure, why not. Bet I can clean you all out in the first round!” Sera declares her laughter pouring out after her dare.

“Oh you really think you can best  _ all _ of us in one round, Buttercup?” Varric asks with laughter in his voice and a sparkle in his eyes.

Lindariel laughs right from her belly as she throws her head back.  _ This is what I needed! _ She thinks before commenting, “Food first, cards second. I only ask that we do  _ not _ discuss business. Nothing about closing the Breach or who we are to ask for help or the Chantry! Now sharing stories is highly encouraged. I want us all to get to know each other, to see each other as people, not as warriors, rogues or mages. Even if that is what we are. When  _ People  _ work together anything can happen, but when we distrust each other based on race or class nothing will be accomplished. Everyone on board?” Lindariel meets everyone's eyes individually, to see their nods of confirmation. “Good let's eat! Flissa!”

Soon everyone has food and their preferred drink in front of them, everyone except Lindariel has some form of alcohol in front of them, Sera asks, “Wha’ you don't drink the good stuff?”

Lindariel shakes her head, “For me water is the good stuff. Certain things I’ve been through have turned me off of alcoholic beverages.”

They all took note of that, “What kinds of things Lady Light?” Varric asked curiously.

“Well, like drunk humans doing very bad things to me. I don’t really want to talk about that though. Tonight is meant to be a fun, happy occasion.” she tries to smile as she stomped down on the memories threatening to come to the forefront of her mind.

“I agree, lets not go there.” Solas says quietly, before fixing Varric with a sharp look. “How about a story Master Tethras.”

So Varric launches into a story about Hawke and Isabela, that soon has everyone in the Singing Maiden laughing. While this is going on Solas leans over to whisper in Lindariel's ear, “You really should talk to someone about what is troubling you. I worry for you, you cannot afford to become distracted during battle.”

Lindariel nods just enough so he knows she heard, then she looks him in the eyes whispering for his ears only, “Find me in the Fade tonight.”

When Varric finishes his story Leliana tells everyone about how Lindariel dressed down Madame de Fer, much to the amusement of Sera, “That’s it, yur a Red Jenny now, all touched Lady Herald.” Her grin nearly splitting her face in two.

Lindariel looks a wee bit discomforted, “Thanks?” she asks unsure if she’s being toyed with or being honored. “By the way Leliana I now owe you one.”

Leliana looks confused, “Owe me one what? A favor or a prank?”

Lindariel merely smiles, “We’ll see when the time comes, won’t we.” Lindariel's smile turns into a full on grin.

Varric laughs saying, “Oh I think we all know the answer to that. Maybe Lady Light didn't want that story making the rounds.”

“Could be. Madame de Fer is an asset to the Inquisition, especially to Jose, however that does not mean I have to like her. I “saw” something that makes me rather leery of her. I do not want her at my back. I have enough in front of me to not want to deal with her grab for more power.” Lindariel sighs looking distant for a moment with a spoonful of stew halfway to her mouth. Suddenly she smiles glancing around the table she asks whose turn is it to tell another story?” she asks.

The rest of the evening is taken up with stories and laughter as they finish eating and start playing Wicked Grace. Everyone ended up staying for several rounds, more stories and many drinks. Lindariel thinks,  _ Yes this is what I wanted, to foster easy camaraderie. I do believe our trip to the Storm Coast and Hinterlands will go very well. Now I need to find a reason that will make going after the Mages the best choice, so we don't end up with infighting over my choice. _

Varric suddenly speaks up days, “No fair Lady Light, you told us stories about your clan, but never anything that includes you! I say we need another story with you in it!”

Lindariel groans, “Do I have to?” she asks hoping to get out of it, yet knowing they won’t take no for an answer. Another sigh escapes her lips as she tries to find a light hearted story that includes herself. “I’m sorry everyone, I don’t really have any happy little stories of my own to share. That is why I never mentioned myself in any of the stories I told.”

“Has your life really been that difficult?” Varric asks, truly concerned now. “More than you will ever know,” comes her quiet reply. “Damn.” Varric said as he and a few of the other began to truly wonder about her life before the Conclave.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so now you all know, I have a love/hate relationship with Vivienne. My Mage Lavellans always dispise her, and I've never once had her become the new Divine.
> 
> My apologies to everyone who loves her!


	9. The Fade

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Solas and Lindariel meet in the Fade. He learns more about her place in Clan Lavellan. Lindariel finds a small amount of comfort.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for the subscription, kudos, and bookmarks. They make me happy and I hope you keep enjoying my Lavellan.

Lindariel stretched her hands up toward the star filled sky as the twin moon slowly made their way across a clear, unscarred sky. Her eyes slowly travel from the sky to the forest she is surrounded by, and she recognizes the place she is. It is a small clearing Clan Lavellan used to frequent before the tragedy that forced them to leave Ferelden. She slowly spins hoping to find Solas before she becomes overwhelmed with sadness.

Solas walked into the clearing, purposely stepping on a twig, needing to get her attention. Lindariel turned to face the noise and relaxed immediately. “What did you want to talk about?” There was no greeting, he simply went to the heart of the matter.

“I thought I would share a memory, this place has connections to that memory.” She said simply. Lindariel took Solas’ hand and drew him back with her as she let the memory play.

Lindariel knelt showing an Elven girl of perhaps 12 summers the Elfroot, demonstrating how to gather the plant and how to conserve it helping it to flourish in the forest. As they worked another Elf appeared, he was older in appearance and he greeted Lindariel with kind words, she smiled and looked over her shoulder just in time to see him slit the throat of her charge. Lindariel started to stand, just to have the blood mage trap her in her own body using the death of her charge to fuel it.

The Fade shifted around them, showing Solas what Lindariel had lived through, how she had been misused. By not only the Elven Blood Mage, but also every male who had lived in that village. The memory ended in purple fire, after the only person Lindariel deemed worthy of surviving was murdered by the real man behind her torture.

Solas took more than a few deep breaths before speaking, “Da'len, I am so sorry,” his voice falls silent as he contemplates what he has just seen.

“Do not be sorry, Solas. You did nothing wrong. Do you now understand why I called Blood Magic evil?” her eyes search his, to see if he truly understands.

“Yes, I had no idea you lived through something like that.” now his eyes search hers. “Is that the memory you were trapped in upon seeing all the people in Haven waiting for you to come out?”

Lindariel nods her confirmation, “I try to not paint all Humans and City Elves with the same black brush, but it can be challenging. The village's name was Sorrows End, but for me it was the beginning of new Sorrows. I let it burn, Solas, with everyone who was there trapped inside. As far as I was concerned they were all guilty, all complacent. To this day, nearly five years later, nothing will grow there. I am a terrible person Solas. That is why I can not accept the title: Herald of Andraste. I highly doubt she would have approved of someone like me.” She falls silent, unable to meet his eyes fearing  _ his _ judgement. She can not stop the tears.

“Oh, Da’len, do not blame yourself. It looked to me like you were trapped for months in a situation that would break the spirit of the strongest person. Somehow you came out relatively whole. I have to wonder is this all that was bothering you?”

Lindariel laughs a bit shakily before answering, “I feel like I'm missing more than just the memories of what happened at the Conclave. There are other seeming blank spots, however what I do remember seems to link together just fine. Except I’m certain something is missing, and I don't know how to get it back.”

“You mentioned that before, Lethallan, perhaps we should find a way to return your memories to you. I am uncertain how at the moment.”

Lindariel sighs, ”That is not my only concern, I lied to Cassandra and the others. I am not the clans first. Though Keeper Deshanna wanted outsiders to believe that, so they would be less likely to kill me out of hand. The last time we were together in the Fade we spoke of the Treasure of Mythal.”

“I remember, lethallan. What about the Treasure?”

“I am only called the First, in actuality I am the one who decides  _ how _ Clan Lavellan protects the Treasure. The reason I know I have holes in my memory is because I cannot remember  _ what _ the Treasure is or where it is hidden. Do you grasp how troubling this is?”

Solas frowns as he thinks, “It is very troubling.” Then his face softens and he reaches out to cup her face in his hand. “You are the guardian of the Treasure of Mythal. Do you realize just how important to Elvhen culture  _ you  _ are?”

“Only if my memory is restored, so I remember where and what it is.” She sighs, “I have a duty to Clan Lavellan, to the Treasure and now to the Inquisition. How much more thinly can I be spread?” she asks.

Solas let's his hand fall, resignation in his face. “Do not fear, I have promised to stay until the Breach is closed. I will also do all I can to help you. I have searched the Fade for a long time, trying to find the Treasure of Mythal to no avail. You are my best chance of finding it, so now I swear to help you spend Clan Lavellan protect it.”

Lindariel's eyes mist again, with barely suppressed tears, “Thank you Solas. You know what I said back when we were on our way to the forward camp, that we are of the same people. I truly believe that, especially in your case. I am grateful to have you at my side, I know you will be able to keep me grounded, so I don't lose control.”

“Thank you lethallan, I am grateful to know you have such faith in me. If I may ask, you told Varric that you had no happy memories that included yourself, surely everything could not have been horrible.”

“In all likelihood it was not all bad, however, I am a child of violence. My birth mother gave me to a couple who could not have children. They were murdered, by a group of Humans and City Elves, right in front of me when I was five. The ones responsible were hurting me and threatening my life. That is when…”

Solas interrupts, “You became Alhasha Eol. A Wild Talent,” he sighs sadly. “I am sorry, you do seem to carry a heavier weight than I realized.”

Lindariel sees the sadness in his eyes, it’s her turn. She reaches up with both hands capturing his face, “I may regret many things from my past Solas, I will never regret meeting you.” Lindariel drops her hands now and turns away from him to look at the clearing that had reappeared after the memory ended. “I’m not sure why I told you all of that, but I trust you Solas. I so badly need at least one person I can trust without reservation. Somehow that person is you.”

Solas sucks in his breath sharply, before replying, his eyes searching hers again and finding whatever he had been looking for. “I will endeavour to live up to your expectations, lethallan,” he says quietly as he pulls her in for a quick embrace. “It is almost time, lethallan. Wake up.”

Lindariel's eyes open to her room in Haven. False dawn is brightening the eastern sky, she slips out of her bed, cleaning up before dressing to travel to the Storm Coast.  _ The next few days will be interesting. I know Cassandra, Varric and Solas will be ready and waiting at the stables when I get there. I think I want to apologize to Vivienne, however it can wait until I return to Haven! _


End file.
